


A Special Love

by cwgirlup75



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Baby Fic, M/M, Mpreg, crowstiel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-18
Packaged: 2018-04-27 01:43:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5028823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cwgirlup75/pseuds/cwgirlup75
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean help Cas and Crowley in a way they never thought possible.</p><p>A/U in that the events after the Season 10 finale are very different.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Special Love

**Author's Note:**

> The first few lines are from the Season 10 finale.

“Castiel – don't.”

“Do. Not.”

“DON'T!”

“PLEASE!”

Crowley ducked away from Cas, hoping that his death would at least be quick. When nothing happened, he opened his eyes and straightened, not knowing what to expect. To his surprise, he saw Castiel, body visibly trembling as he forced himself to back away from Crowley. He stopped after several feet, turning his back to Crowley and muttering in Enochian. Seconds later, a flash of light filled the room and Rowena appeared before Castiel. A shocked gasp was the last thing to pass her lips before he buried his blade in her chest and watched her fall to the floor. Suddenly free, Crowley rushed to Cas as his eyes rolled back and caught the angel just before he collapsed.

“You can't die on me now, kitten. Those denim wrapped nightmares will never let me hear the end of it. Besides, we can't let Mummy dearest win, now can we?”

Castiel smiled weakly at Crowley and pulled him down by his collar. With the last of his waning strength, he whispered in the demon's ear and went limp in his arms. Crowley shook him gently and tapped his cheek in an attempt to revive him, but it had no effect. The bird was well and truly out. He stripped off his suit jacket and used it to cushion Castiel's head when he carefully lowered him to the ground. The king's mind raced as he tried to decide his next move, the angel's whispered words echoing in his mind.

“Protect them.”

Protect them. Anyone else would assume that he meant the Winchesters – the overgrown oafs for whom Castiel had sacrificed so much. Crowley knew better. He knew exactly who Cas referred to, and in order to do it, he needed to get the angel to safety. He certainly couldn't take him to Hell – he would be a target for every low level demon looking to make a name for himself. And he absolutely refused to take him upstairs and trust him to the care of the feathered arseholes. He sighed. As much as he hated to admit it, there was only one place where Cas would truly be safe.

He pulled his cell from his pocket, scrolling through the contacts until he came upon the familiar picture of a moose. Two rings later, a keyed up Sam answered.

“Crowley? Crowley! It worked! The spell worked! The Mark is gone! Like it was never there. It all happened so fast – the Mark got zapped, Death disappeared, and we ended up back here at the bunker. I guess Rowena must have added something to her spell to get us home.”

Sam paused for a breath, and Crowley broke into his excited rambles. “Oh, she added something to it all right, but not in a good way.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just need you to take down the warding so that I can get into the bunker.”

“I don't know if Dean...”

“Please Sam – it's urgent. More than one life depends on this. I'll explain when I see you.”

The hint of desperation in Crowley's voice spurred Sam into action. “Ok, I'll break the seals. Get here as fast as you can.”

Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, Sam heard a voice behind him. “Is this fast enough?”

He turned to find Crowley holding an obviously unconscious Castiel. He hurried forward to relieve the demon of Cas' weight while yelling in the direction of the kitchen for his brother. Dean came running and skidded to a stop when he spotted his friend's limp body in Sam's arms, a beleaguered looking Crowley fussing over him. 

“Don't just sling him around like a wet noodle, you overgrown Sasquatch! Here, hand him over.”

“Crowley, you look like you're about two steps away from collapsing yourself. At least let me put him down on the couch.”

“Absolutely not. He needs to be in a real bed so he can get proper rest.”

Sam exchanged a look with Dean. “Ok, we'll put him in the guest room. Let me just get him settled and then you can tell us what all this is about.”

Dean and Crowley trailed Sam into the guest room. After he deposited Cas on the bed, Crowley shouldered Sam aside and removed the angel's coat, tie, and shoes before pulling the blanket to his chin. He smoothed the dark hair back and kissed his forehead, missing the way Sam and Dean's eyes bugged out at the sight. He turned off the lamp beside the bed and shooed the two hunters out, following them and closing the door softly.

The three made it into the main room before Dean couldn't contain himself any longer. “Ok, Crowley, what the hell was that all about? Who hurt Cas? Was it Rowena? And when the hell did you start mother-henning him like that?”

Crowley sighed, pouring himself a drink (the Men of Letters really did have excellent taste in booze, he thought) and turned to Dean. “What should I answer first, Squirrel? The what, the who, the was, or the when?”

Sam jumped in before Dean exploded. “Look, Crowley we've had a hell of a day. Just explain all this to us, please.”

“Oh, well since you're had a hard day and all. As you can clearly see, Castiel and I have been having a bloody picnic!” He took a breath and sipped his Craig. “My apologies, the both of you. I'm grateful that you allowed me to bring Cas here. I'm afraid this situation is beyond my purview.” He sat on the couch and gestured for the brothers to sit across from him. “This is rather a complicated story, I'm afraid. After my dear mum cast the spell to rid Dean of the Mark, she added her own special touch. An addendum, if you will, in the form of the attack dog spell. Castiel managed to fight off the spell and kill Rowena, but he severely weakened himself in the process. To be frank, this was the only place I could think of to hide him while he recovers.”

Sam spoke up. “Ok, I get that. I do. He saved your life, and you wanted to repay him by keeping him safe. But what was all that 'lives are at stake' stuff about?”

Dean cut in. “And what the hell is up with the lovey-dovey, kiss-on-the-forehead crap?”

Crowley ran a hand over his beard. “Well. This is a conversation I wanted to avoid until...well, until the end of time, to be honest. Or at least until my favorite angel was here to run interference for me, so to speak. But seeing as how that's not going to happen, I might as well bite the bullet. Castiel and I have been...shall we say, involved, for some time now.”

Dean just stared at him. “Involved in what?”

Crowley scowled at him. “In various amorous activities, you simplistic buffoon.”

Dean's jaw dropped. “You mean that you...? And he...? That you and he are...are...?”

Crowley smirked. “Lovers? In flagrante delicto? Partners in the biblical sense? Yes, Dean, we are. And have been for quite awhile.”

Dean exploded off the couch, visions of wrapping his hands around the demon's throat and squeezing until his head popped off running through his mind. “You son of a bitch! I'll kill you!”

A flick of Crowley's wrist pinned Dean back into his chair. He struggled futilely against unseen bonds as he raged at the King of Hell. “You smug, arrogant asshole! What did you do to him? Did you force him? Make him think it was his idea somehow?”

The demon gave him a warning glance. “Calm yourself, Squirrel. I've been called many things in my time, and rightfully so, but a rapist has never been one of them. Everything that happened between Castiel and I was completely consentual, as he can attest to when he regains consciousness.”

Sam jumped in to diffuse the tension between his brother and Crowley. “Look, let's just table this conversation for now. Crowley, why did you seem so desperate to get Cas here? Is he in danger?”

“Simply put – yes, he is in danger. The aforementioned amorous activities have produced a rather unintended result that places his well being in great jeopardy.”

Dean's barely contained temper flared again. “What the hell are you talking about? What did you do to him? I swear, if you gave him some sort of demonic STD, I'll...”

“He's pregnant, you daft mud-monkey.”

Silence reigned in the bunker following Crowley's statement. The demon brushed an imaginary piece of lint off his cuff while the brothers struggled to make sense of what they had heard.

Sam regained the power of speech first. “He's what??”

“Pregnant. Expecting, with child, in the family way. Any of this penetrating those thick noggins of yours?”

“Ok, let's back up,” said Dean. “Just hold everything for a minute. How can Cas be...what you said?”

“Oh, Squirrel. Did Johnny never have this talk with you? You see, when a demon and an angel love each other very much...”

“Stop. Just stop right there. Number one, never say that again. Number two, how did the two of you accomplish...that? Last time I checked, you both have male vessels – hosts – whatever you want to call them. How did you two make a baby?”

“Life, uh, finds a way.”

“Did you seriously just quote Jurassic Park?”

Crowley shrugged. “During my depressing bout with humanity, I developed a love of American cimema. Some things stick with you.”

“Yeah, that was a pretty kick-ass movie.”

Sam spoke up. “Hey guys, can we forget about the movie and focus on the fact that Cas is apparently incubating some kind of angel-demon hybrid as we speak?”

“Actually, Moose, as far as we can tell the babies are fully human.”

Sam and Dean responded in unison. “Babies?” “Human?”

Crowley held up a hand. “Babies, Dean, as in two. And, yes, Sam, they seem to be human. Castiel cannot detect any type of grace within them, and I, of course, was human once upon a time. Which brings us to the other reason Cas and the babies are in danger. Keeping them hidden from Heaven and Hell is a start, but the babies are going to die without your help.”

“What do you mean, they're going to die? And how exactly can we keep that from happening?”

“The fetuses require human blood to grow, Sam. Castiel's chosen vessel is male, as you know, and therefore unable to provide what they need. Up to now, I've been using my connections from my unfortunate human blood addiction, but those sources are running dry. Right now, I'm guessing that the babies have roughly a week before they begin to deteriorate if they don't receive more blood. So, I am asking – and I'll beg if need be – that you put aside whatever feelings you have about me and help Cas and our children.”

“Let me get this straight. You want to drain us like a vampire so that a couple more demons can be brought into the world?”

Crowley's eyes flared red as he fought down the temptation to fling Dean into a wall. “They aren't demons, you pusillanimous dunce! They are human – as human as you and Sam. And they are going to die without help.”

“I'm in.”

Dean glared at his brother. “You're in? After everything he's done to us? So what, you're just going to siphon off your blood for his demon-spawn? Like it's no big deal? This isn't exactly asking to borrow a cup of milk, Sam!”

“He helped you get rid of the Mark, Dean, when he could have easily refused. I'd do anything to repay him for that. So, yes, I will help his children. Who happen to be Castiel's childen too. Remember Cas? Our friend? Are you really going to stand by and let his babies die – knowing that you could prevent it?”

Dean fumed, his eyes darting back and forth between his brother and the demon as he wrestled with the situation before him. “Fine! Fine, I'll do it. If only to ease the demand on my lug-headed brother.” He sighed and paced the length of the room. “So how exactly do we go about this?”

Crowley felt a sense of relief wash over him. “We've found, through a little trial and error, that Cas and the babies do best with an injection every other day. So all we would need is a syringe of blood twice a week from each of you for the next few months.”

“Define few.”

“We think he's three months gone. So judging by the normal human gestation period, about six months.”

“You think? You mean you don't know for sure?”

Crowley threw his hands up. “It's not like there's a precedent for this kind of thing! We couldn't really walk into a clinic and say 'Hi, I'm the King of Hell, he's an angel, and he's carrying my child. We'd appreciate it if you could take a quick look and tell us how far gone he is. Thanks ever so.' I don't think that would have gone over too well, do you?”

The brothers exchanged a look. “Ok,” Sam conceded, “I can see how that wasn't a choice for you. But we do know somebody that might be willing to check Cas out and make sure that everything looks normal – relatively speaking. She's a midwife, and she's seen enough over the past few years that a pregnant, male angel probably won't rate more than a raised eyebrow.”

Crowley hesitated. As loathe as he was to entrust Castiel to anyone recommended by the Losechesters, he didn't have a lot of options. He certainly couldn't let any of his demons near him, even those with a background in obstetrics. And he couldn't deny that it would be nice to have someone with experience helping them. They had been flying by the seat of their pants since this whole thing started, and it would ease his mind greatly to have even semi-professional help.

“Very well then. I'll agree to it with the proviso that I meet this woman before she touches Cas. After all,” he continued, as Sam grabbed his phone, “the sprogs are half yours truly. Have to make sure they get the best care.”

Dean smirked. “That shouldn't be a problem. Actually, I believe you already know her.”

Before Crowley could voice a question, he heard Sam speak into the phone. “Hello, Jody? Yeah, it's Sam. Listen, we have a little situation here that we could use your help with...” His voice trailed off as he walked out of the room. 

Crowley quirked an eyebrow at Dean. “Jody? As in Jody Mills? As in Sheriff Jody Mills? And what exactly makes you think she's going to be willing to help when she learns who the – to borrow a phrase from your lexicon – 'baby daddy' is? Given our history and all?”

“Because Jody is good people. Because she's not going to let harm come to innocent children – even if their father is a demon. Because that's what friends do for each other.” 

Dean looked at Crowley, taking note of the stress and worry on his face. He felt a flash of pity for the demon and continued, “Look, it's going to take Jody awhile to get here to get here. Why don't you go sit with Cas until then? I'm sure waking up here with no one to explain what's going on would probably freak him out a little, and he definitely doesn't need that right now.”

Crowley sighed and nodded, running a hand over the back of his neck as he turned to head for the guest room. He paused in the doorway to the hall and spoke without turning around. “Thank you, Dean. You and Sam. For everything.”

By the time Dean recovered from his shock at the seemingly genuine thanks, Crowley had popped out of the room. He rematerialized at the foot of the seraph's bed, the entire room dark and silent save for the muted glow of the lamp in the corner and Castiel's steady, even breathing. He gazed at the angel for a moment, drinking in the sight of him resting. The physical effects of the attack dog spell were fading, the red streaks under his eyes almost completely faded. He seemed at ease, as if his subconcious knew that he was safe.

The demon kicked off his shoes and stripped down to his undershirt and boxers before stretching out next to the slumbering form. Castiel was lying on his back, and Crowley placed a hand on his abdomen, running a hand over the gentle swell housing their babies.


End file.
